


Criminal Files

by FluffDuckling



Category: Criminal Minds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:39:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7632961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffDuckling/pseuds/FluffDuckling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Spencer worship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for MoReid Week on Tumblr in 2015 and noticed I hadn't uploaded it here.  
> Please expect a few different pairings, not solely MoReid, in the future.

First days were never good days. The butterflies woke him up and often it led to bricks settling in his stomach with the cereal he would eat for breakfast and shortly followed by the need to throw up everything and quit the day until sunrise tomorrow. But some things just needed to be done and this was one of those things.

An FBI agent. He was an FBI agent. That is, if he could keep his legs from turning to jelly underneath him long enough to not fall down the stairs and break his neck on the first day.

Pushing his hair down for the eighth time since six fifteen, when he’d slicked it back, Spencer Reid, brand new probationary agent under the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, began his thirty minute commute to Quantico, Virginia.

Spencer fiddled with his messenger bag and tried to straighten every potential wrinkle in his sweater vest that he could comprehend as he stood, holding onto a pole with one hand, swaying forward and back with the motions of the train. His tie knot was smoothed over and made to look nice again and again and his scuffed tennis shoes that probably were not the best thing to wear to a professional job were not as scuffed as they could have been, since Spencer had spent the better half of the night before scrubbing them to look nice. They were his nicest pair, of course.

The short walk from the metro station to the Bureau headquarters was spent grasping his bag in a white knuckled grip, his fingers turning cold with the lack of blood flow. The butterflies from early morning had returned, somehow crawling from beneath the bricks and floating to the top of the lake of lactose-free milk and soggy Lucky Charms in his stomach. It was not a pleasant combination of feelings.

Everyone Spencer passed on the street were staring at him and judging his appearance, scoffing at his shoes or laughing at his wrinkled sweater vest, jokes were made about his dorky glasses too big for his face, and even his hair couldn’t escape ridicule. He knew he should have invested in an iron for his vests, but then he would need an ironing board and who had the time for that? His hair kept flopping in front of his eyes, because the wind had decided to start up just in the last few feet of his trek and now Spencer was trying to straighten his hair out once more this morning. He really wanted to make a good impression with his new coworkers.

The inside of the building was immaculate. People milled about or rushed to the elevators and Spencer glanced at his watch, only to become one of those sort, tapping the up button thirty times and tapping their foot while their hands became idle with the folders or their briefcase they were holding.

The ride up the floors was spent in a daze and Spencer took the chance to take a few deep breaths and mentally prepare himself for a normal day, just with new people. He had already done the hard part of passing the classes. Now he just had to meet his new friends. Because they would be friends. Hopefully.

Gideon’s office would be in the back, just past the large glass doors that he wouldn’t be able to miss once he departed the elevator, Gideon had told him. Then his boss, Special Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner would be just next door, to the right. He could do this. It’s just like talking to his professors about homework. He did it all the time. It was a breeze.

The glass doors were spectacular, with the FBI emblem frosted onto them and so clean Spencer was a bit hesitant to even touch the handles in fear of smudging them. The office on the other side wasn’t the beehive of activity that he had been expecting. There were certainly enough micro cubicles for there to be a cacophony of noise from hard working employees, but the place was practically empty. A lone man was sat at one of the first cubicles, working at the computer and not even looking as if he had heard Spencer enter. 

Thankful for that small grace, Spencer quickly made his way to the far side of the room, where he could see the private offices lining the wall. Of course, not all things could go his way and half-way there Spencer tripped over a stray cord and nearly fell onto his face. Righting himself quickly, and discreetly glancing back at the nameless computer drone, Spencer hastened his speed, but not without keeping an eye on where his feet lay.

He could see Gideon’s name on one of the plaques on the wall next to one of the doors as he made his way past them. Aaron Hotchner’s door was next. The window had blinds covering it and they were shut, but Spencer could see a light on it and so he took a few seconds to breathe again before knocking.

“Come in,” a muffled voice Spencer could just hear replied. Spencer entered on nervous knees.

“Ah, Spencer! Right on time.” Gideon was sitting at a chair in front of the desk of his employer, a stern looking man, not too young and not too old. Experienced. “I was just talking with Aaron about you. Come sit down for a moment.”

“I wanted to be a little early, in case the trains were late.” Spencer almost, almost tripped over his own shoes, but he held it together long enough to sit like a normal person in the second chair.

“Like I was saying,” Gideon began, turning back to Aaron. “Doctor Reid will be an invaluable addition to our team. His mind is top notch and we’re lucky to have talked Strauss into nabbing him.”

Spencer felt his face flush a dark red, still not used to being praised so openly like Gideon did. It was embarrassing. 

“It’s very good to meet you, Doctor Reid,” Aaron Hotchner said. He leant forward in his chair and held his hand out. “Gideon won’t shut up about you.”

“It’s very nice to meet you finally too, Sir.” Spencer bit his tongue and cheek and shook Mr. Hotchner’s hand. He could feel Gideon’s eyes on him as he did and when the greeting was over, he started to discreetly scratch his palm with his middle finger. He tried to hide it by holding his bag in his lap.

“We have an early start today, Doctor Reid. I’ll show you to your desk and then we have a meeting in the second to last office down the hall. It’s the only room with a round table. The rest of our Unit will be milling about, I’m sure. We can introduce you at the meeting.” Mr. Hotchner stood and Gideon stood as well, so Spencer jumped to his feet, not wanting to be waited on. The two men began walking out the door and Spencer followed after them, holding onto his bag in a vice grip once again. His right hand was hurting already from the scratching.

In the large office space now, instead of the still nameless computer drone, a man with large arms and a dark complexion was standing at one of the computer desks and talking with a pale woman who sat on top of the desk. She smiled when she saw Spencer. That got the man to look over.

And that’s what finally got Spencer to trip up and fall flat on his face after failing to notice the three steps down into the dugout floor, too invested in the face of the man with the big arms and the bigger smile. Everyone around him jumped and Gideon and the woman were crouching down to help him up within seconds.

Spencer, as soon as his nose hit the floor, began spouting off apologies and thanking the woman for grabbing his arm and to Gideon for patting down his vest for dust. His face was bright red now and he could tell there were two little marks on his nose, where his glasses had smashed into his face. He was just thanking the gods that be that he hadn’t started spraying blood out his nose. He might have died from the humility, had that happened. He would have to hand in his badge on his very first day on the job and then where would he be, but never again able to see that startlingly handsome face again.

Spencer was smitten.


	2. Domestic Life

Clooney woke them up most mornings at some ungodly hour with a cold nose and sharp nails. Heavy duvets and late nights did not stand a chance against Clooney’s daily ritual. 

“You didn’t shut the door, did you?” Reid mumbled as he shoved Derek towards the edge of the bed. “You never shut the door.”

Derek chuckled and patted the space beside him, eliciting Clooney to jump up and squash his thin partner. Reid moaned and tried to tug the cover over his head to shield himself from sticky dog saliva and cold, wet noses. “He’s my baby, what can I say?”

“OW! Derek, that was my back!”

“Alright, Cloon,” Derek wrestled with the dog and yanked him off Reid. “No more flattening Spencer. He’s the one that gives you treats.”

“Go take him on a run,” Reid ushered from under the cover and a pillow. Derek smirked and patted where he guessed was Spencer’s head. He got a hum in response. 

“Only if you promise to have coffee ready when we get back.” He stood up, his feet freezing on the hardwood floor.

“Yea, yea.”

“C’mon, boy. Spencer needs some more shut eye.” He wrestled with Clooney a bit more as he headed down the hall, riling up the dog. “He’ll have coffee and dog treats ready when we get back,” he assured Clooney as he snapped the lead onto his collar.


	3. Meet the Family

“My mom and I used to order in this every Friday night. On days she wasn’t feeling herself, I would call in myself and try and get her to understand. It’s kind of our comfort food.”

Derek looked at the golden brown slab of what was supposed to be lobster; sweet, juicy, red lobster. He chanced a glance at Spencer. 

“I thought we could take some to my mom when we meet her tomorrow,” he continued to ramble. He had already polished off his own serving of sin on a plate and was picking at a side salad now, giving Derek’s plate the eye. “I think it would smooth her nerves over, as well as mine. I’ve never introduced her to a boyfriend before. Not that there were many or anything. I just, my friends when I was little were the neighbor kids and then I met Ethan in California and we never ended up in Vegas before coming to DC so… Yea.”

Derek was cutting up the lobster as he listened to Spencer ramble. He tried the creamy, red sauce that accompanied the main dish and found it was something like chipotle or maybe paprika. Either way, Derek had inhaled that with his fries and was now working on figuring out why someone would want to batter and deep-fry a perfectly good lobster.

“Why are you so nervous? She’s met me before. Hell, she’s even consulted on a case or two over the years. She’s practically a profiler herself.” He lifted a bite with his fork, Spencer staring after it.

“Yes, but she’s never met someone that means something important to me. I remember when I was little, she would go on about wanting only the best for me.”

“Am I not the best?” Derek asked with a raised brow. The fork was hovering near his mouth and Spencer’s eyebrow was twitching.

“No! No, you’re everything! It’s just, my mom has a very eccentric view on things. I think it is the literature professor in her. She reads between the lines and looks for things that aren’t there. Could you just eat it already?”

Derek laughed and took his first bite. And oh man, what a first bite it was. The lobster was still juicy and it wasn’t greasy like many deep-fried foods were. It was buttery and salty and garlic-y and everything you could hope for lobster to taste like all in one tiny package. He might have let slip a little moan.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Spencer said with a superior smirk. “I know good lobster when I see it.”

“Alright, I admit. This is some god damn good lobster. We might just have to bring some extra back to the hotel tonight.”

“So you can get your fix, I understand. I haven’t found anything as good back home. And I doubt I could recreate it in the kitchen.”

Derek was working on his fifth bite. “Mm-hm. I bet we could convince Rossi to make this. Say something challenging about his cooking skills and boom! we’ve got ourselves some homemade chicken-fried lobster.”

“That might not end up how you would want it, you know.”

“I don’t know, but damn, kid. You’re mom’s got taste.”


	4. Centaur AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I sure do hope you like centuar aus because I sure as hell do.

His back leg was broken and it was hunting season. The humans had littered the forest with traps and snares and Spencer had gotten hurt by one. Now he couldn’t put any weight on his hind, left leg and had no one around to help him to a hiding spot until he could bear the pain.

A thin branch snapping somewhere not too far away had his ears pointed heavenward and flickering around. His breath was caught in his throat and he tried to test his leg only to fall back down in a heap. This was it, he was going to die.

He would never see JJ or Henry again, or tell his mother he was sorry for leaving her with the elders, or get to tell Hotch that while his offer was flattering, he wasn’t right for, all intents and purposes, the position as Alpha Doe. There was rustling in the bushes not too far off of his right. 

A heavy boot stepped out and then another and there stood a tall, dark, intimidating hunter. Seized with panic, Spencer began to cry. He didn’t want to die. Not alone and afraid. Not by a human.

There was a gasp and Spencer snapped his head up to stare through blurry eyes as the human tip-toed nearer. Spencer shook his head in a swooping motion, back and forth. It would have been a very intimidating move, had his antlers not been shed for the winter; he only had two tiny nubs that for the past week had been giving him headaches as they grew in.

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” The human waved his hands up and down, his palms flat as he spoke in a soft voice that reminded Spencer of the tone mothers used for their foals. “I just want to help.”

“Please,” Spencer begged. “Don’t come closer, please.” He scrubbed his eyes with one hand as the other wrapped around his slim torso. “Please.”

“It’s alright. I just want to see what’s happened. I’m not a hunter, believe me.”

“It’s hunting season. I’m not stupid. You’re not the first human to use that trick.” Gideon had been killed by a hunter who had spoken those very words to his girlfriend. The two had died as Gideon tried to save her from the wretched hunter. “Please just make it quick. Don’t make it hurt anymore than it has to.”

“I’m not a hunter, I promise.” The human crouched down and lifted a pack off his shoulder. “If I were, I’d have a real shit storm coming from a friend of mine. She’s a vegetarian. And a centaur’s rights activist. I’m one too.” He unzipped the pack and began rummaging in it. “I come to the forest every year to help any centaur I can find.”

Spencer stared at the human and watched his hands carefully. Humans were dirty, deceitful beings that cared only for themselves. A few pretty words couldn’t change Spencer’s mind so simply.

“My name’s Derek,” the human said as he lifted his hands out of the pack. There was gauze and a white bottle in them. “If you let me look at your leg, I could try and ease the pain. You got stuck in a clamp, right? Those gashes look pretty deep.”

“I-I think it’s broken. I can’t stand.”

“No kidding. Well, I don’t have much to help with broken bones. Uhm…” Derek stepped closer to Spencer while he was still crouched. He hobbled nearer and Spencer, still weary, but so very intrigued, let the human touch his hind leg. It hurt and he gasped, but the human didn’t shy away.

“I can put this ointment on the gashes. It will clean them and let them heal. But, I’m afraid I can’t help your leg much after that. Will you be able to hide if you need to? Are anyone of your friends or family nearby that could help?”

“N-No. I was on my own. I got separated as my herd was trying to find a safe spot to sleep in for the night. Th-That was a few days ago.”

Derek the human rubbed the ointment onto Spencer’s wound. His leg twitched and it burned where Derek touched, but after a few minutes, the area seemed to numb and the only thing to ache was the broken bone.

“I have to check on others,” Derek said, standing up. “Please be safe. I’ll help you to hide, but I do have to help other Centaurs.”

Spencer was beyond himself as the human helped him to stand and walk a short distance to a small cove of knotted tree roots he’d be able to hide in for the time being. Before the human left, he called out. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Just make sure you take care of yourself. I hope to see you next year!”


	5. DC Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, love it, hate it, it's awesome to finally have information on the North American school. There will be a few chapters of Spencer meeting the FBI team on his new adventure into wizardry coming in the future as I've grown quite attached to Ilvermorny.  
> Houses include, Horned Serpent, Thunderbird, Wampus, and Pukwudgie, just as a heads up if you haven't read any of the recent information.  
> Also, there is not a lot of information at all about the American wizarding society, so certain terms and even the monetary system is not known so I just went with galleons and such until I can come up with something more unique or new information comes out (doubtfully). I also came up with the term New-Maj as I don't think there was anything stated that was equivalent to Mud-Blood in the new information, though I'm not using New-Maj as a derogatory term, just as someone with magic from a previously non-magical family.

The train ride to DC was long, but Spencer had never been outside of the Las Vegas suburbs so he found the entire arduous journey thus far very riveting. Over the day and a half that Spencer had thus been on the train, he’d mostly ridden in silence, having found an empty cart to himself near the back of the train. There had been a few visitors here and there, but mostly, Spencer had been alone.

He had used his time wisely, though. His large stack of textbooks were scattered around the floor of the compartment and he’d read through them all twice over – as well as some other books he’d chosen himself in the magical book store his mother had brought him too after they had been given directions through the very helpful piece of parchment that had been sent by an owl to their house, informing the Reid family that little Spencer was something entirely special.

The book store hadn’t seemed very special or very magical when they first arrived. Of course, Spencer couldn’t stay very upset. Any building with that many books was indeed magical and special.

As soon as they had entered the doors, though, a whole new world opened up to them. Spencer and his mother both marveled at the books and the people and the everything. Books floated over head, shelving themselves; an old lady with glasses even thicker than Spencer’s was absentmindedly waving a wand in the air and they watched as a stack of books taller than Spencer’s mother began floating to the cash register and checking themselves out, even the register was accepting money and dolling out change on its own!

Spencer’s mother leaned down and whispered in his ear, “Think of all the literature there is to learn from.” Even during the summer months, she couldn’t help herself. As a literature professor, Diana Reid had a passion for books of all kinds and to be met with an entire world of stories she’d never known existed before today was exhilarating.

“How long do you think it would take to read them all?” Spencer asked.

“Charles reckons a few years at the least,” the old woman answered.

The two newcomers jumped and looked over at her.

“New-Maj, I take it? Get some every year.” She stood up, far spritelier than she looked, and gestured them over. “Right this way. First year at Ilvermorny, I bet. Got all the textbooks in a bundle for easy access. No running around like chickens in my shop.” She tapped her wand on a shelf that Spencer had to look straight up to see the top of and down came a bundle of books neatly tied with twine. They landed in his arms and were far lighter than anything he was expecting.

“Feather-weight charm on all my school books. I’ve seen too many of those No-Maj children with hunched shoulders, the poor dears. Won’t have that with my customers. No extra charge.”

Spencer smiled at her nicely and thanked her. Then he looked back at the bundle in his arms and read the titles, just as he’d seen them on his acceptance letter. 

“How much is all this going to be? Textbooks aren’t cheap, you know. I’m a professor down at the community college,” Diana explained. “The letter said that tuition was not a matter, but-“ 

“A handful of galleons, they are. I can hold them while you exchange your money at the bank. No American dollars here, I’m sorry.”  
“Could you point us to the, er, bank, then, please?” Diana asked with a raised brow. This was all so flustering.

“Oh, whatever bank you use normally is just fine, deary! Just have to ask for Isolt. She’s the founder of the school, you know.” The old woman winked at Spencer. “You’ll read all about that in your history book. Just ask for Isolt and a witch or wizard will help you from there. We’re more common than you think.” She winked again.  
  
The trip to the bank went far more smooth than either son or mother had expected and soon they had enough money to cover all school-shopping expenses. They arrived back at the book store and the old woman wrapped up their books, as well as the additional ones Diana and Spencer had found while browsing. She also gave directions to all the best shops to buy robes and other school supplies.

Lying back on the overly cushioned bench seat, Spencer went over the Charms textbook for a third time.

It was still hard to believe. As a young man of science, being told on the day of your eleventh birthday that you were a wizard was very perplexing. Magic couldn’t possibly exist. But, then, what was magic, but science that just hadn’t been explained yet?

Besides, he’d already graduated from high school the previous school year. Taking extra summer classes between Freshman and Junior year had really paid off in the end. He may not have been very popular, nor had very many friends, but Spencer had worked hard and he’d accomplished something he hadn’t thought originally possible. He was now the youngest student to graduate from his high school yet.

How different would magical schooling be from non-magical schooling? Would there be the same kind of rift between scholar and jock like as Spencer’s old school? Would he have a whole new set of bullies, this time equipped with lethal magic? What were magical swirlies like?

The rest of the day past quietly. A nice lady with a cart came by with different dinner options and Spencer gratefully took the first thing he saw. He thanked her many times, just as he’d done when she had come by with breakfast and lunch.

“I know it’s hard to stay cooped up in a train, but the destination is truly worth it,” she’d told him, handing him over an extra cookie. Spencer blushed and thanked her more.

In DC, they would be picking up more students and while Spencer had at first been skeptical about the entire train to people ratio as he’d boarded back in Nevada, he’d discovered the inside was vastly larger than the outside. From the station, Spencer and his parents had stared at the old train cars all painted different colors and looking very rustic. How on earth were they fitting all the school’s children into that tiny train?

But the inside was magical. As soon as he had stepped onto the train, Spencer could see that it was at least twice, maybe even three times, as long as it had initially seemed and it was even a double-decker.

As the sun set, the bench seats transformed themselves into pullout beds and so Spencer got read for bed and let himself be rocked to sleep and the forested plains turned into mountain views as they crossed the Appalachian Mountains to come nearer to DC.


End file.
